


Ferro Riscaldato (Heated Iron)

by Ricky B (littletoes101)



Category: Baccano!
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 07:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littletoes101/pseuds/Ricky%20B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here's what's what: Immortal gangsters means immortal gang wars. The people who never die are dropping like flies. The Government always has something to do with it. Things are never peaceful in New York. Full list of warnings inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Box that arrives for Luck Gandor isn't Really a Box at all (1933, March)

**Ferro Riscaldato** (Heated Iron)

 _Summary:_ Here's what's what: Immortal gangsters means immortal gang wars. The people who never die are dropping like flies. The Government always has something to do with it. Things are never peaceful in New York. Full list of warnings inside.

 

 **FULL WARNINGS:** This is an AU, in which all of the characters, unless explicitly noted, are immortal. Warning for heavy smut, and yaoi.

 **PAIRINGS:** Main LuckDallas, LaddHuey, GrahamShaft, MaizaSylvie, and the rest are canon pairs (FiroEnnis, IsaacMiria, etc.)

  


_Ferro Riscaldato, 1933-1934 Arc (Once Upon A Time In New York City)_

  


Here's what's what: They inherited this fight from their parents. Ladd Russo is out for blood. Luck Gandor is invited to a party. Eve Genoard doesn't find anything peculiar, at all, really.

  


The Box that arrives for Luck Gandor isn't Really a Box at all

1933 (March)

Luck Gandor

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Luck murmured as he slid into his desk chair, noticing the box on the desk top.

“It came in this mornin' addressed ta' you,” Firo, who'd trailed in behind him, answered. “There wasn't a return address on it, though. Completely anonymous...” He smiled at Luck. “So who do ya' think it's from?”

“Probably not from Dallas,” he replied as he took out his pocketknife, slicing open the top of the box to open it. “For one thing, he never sends packages. And he's probably too busy with family affairs to send anything.” Luck's eyes took on a different glean as he spoke of his fiancé, a smile threatening to tug at his lips.

When he finally opened the box, Luck peered inside cautiously. He could see a small gleam of light reflecting off of something shiny, and a flash of recognition passed through him as he lifted the object out of the box.

“It's my gun,” he murmured, running a hand along the barrel of his handgun. “The one I lost last week when we hit the Russo's gambling parlor.” Luck reached into the box and pulled out the second item inside of it, a paper that had been sitting under the gun. “...the bastard wrote me a letter.”

“Are you sayin' Ladd sent you that letta'?” Firo asked, moving to peer over Luck's shoulder to attempt to read it. “Why?”

“Let's find out.” Luck went silent as he read the letter.

 _Dear Mr. Gandor,_ (It sounded too polite to Luck, and this bothered him greatly.)

_So you got my package? Good! If for some reason the person reading this isn't Mr. Gandor, then it may be in your best interest to drop this letter now._

_Anyway, if this is Mr. Gandor, I just think it would be fair for you to know that you sure are a cocky bastard! In fact, I almost envy guys like you who are stupid enough to attack me so far into my own territory. I figured that I could at least be nice enough to return your gun to you. Before I beat your ass, of course. Maybe you might be able to defend yourself this time!_

_\--_ L _add_ R _usso_

Luck just let out a soft, troubled sigh as he let the paper fall onto the desk. “When do you think he'll show up?”

“You're just gonna let him come?” Firo asked, his eyes growing wide. “Luck, ya' know ya' don't stand a chance! Tha' only man in this gang tha's capable of beatin' Ladd is Claire. Ya' know that, don't ya'?” His voice was almost desperate now, and Luck smiled as he rose out of his chair.

“I know. There's no use running though, is there? He'll come, and he'll beat me, probably kill me a couple times, and he'll be done. Just like before.” Luck had walked over to the door, his hand resting on the handle. “Besides, Dallas is coming back in tonight. Do you want to come pick him up with me?”

Firo stared at Luck in disbelief, then shook his head, a grin appearing on his lips. “Yeah, alright. I guess since there's no way ta' change your mind...ya' gonna tell Dallas about this?”

“Why wouldn't I?” Luck asked in reply, opening the door. He let Firo out first, then followed him out and shut the door.

“Well...I mean...ya' know how he is,” Firo stated as they walked down the hallway and down the stairs.

“I know. He won't be happy. He never is.”

The two both let out echoing rings of laughter in agreement as they walked out of the front door.

Ladd Russo

“Ladd...” Huey ran his fingers through Ladd's soft, curled blonde hair as the other kissed his way down Huey's stomach, teeth scraping against his soft, pale skin. His breath hitched and he stifled a groan as Ladd unbuttoned the buttons on his pants and pulled down the zipper, pulling off his pants and tossing them over the side of his bed, where he'd previously thrown their jackets and shirts. Huey let out a breathy hiss in anticipation of what was to come, and Ladd's grip on his waist tightened slightly as his lips drew ever closer to the bulge in Huey's underwear. Even when they were only touching and kissing, it was enough to get him hard.

Just as Ladd was hooking his fingers around the waistband of Huey's underwear, there was a knock at the door, and a low growl rose in his throat. What could possibly be important enough to interrupt him at a time like this?

“You'd better go get that,” Huey sighed, leaning up as Ladd stood. “Besides, we'll have time to finish later.” A small grin flashed across Ladd's face as he leaned over, kissing Huey roughly once more before he walked over to the door, opening it and looking down.

Standing in the hallway outside of the door was Graham, his eyes gleaming like he had something exciting to say. A lot of the times when he got that look, Ladd didn't know whether to be happy or slightly afraid. “He got the package, boss.” He shifted from one foot to the other excitedly, and Ladd let out a breathy noise that Graham didn't realize was a laugh until he thought about it later.

“Oh really?” The grin on Ladd's face widened. “We'll get going later, alright? Get your stuff.” Graham's face took on the expression of a child who'd just been told they were going out to get a toy they'd wanted for years. He nodded excitedly and took off down the hallway. Once he did, Ladd chuckled a bit, then shut the door and locked it behind him.

“Who was that?” Huey asked as Ladd slid into bed, positioning himself so that he could straddle Huey's hips comfortably. The raven-haired Frenchman let out a breathy sigh as Ladd leaned over, his lips brushing the sensitive skin on his lower jaw.

“Don't worry about it.” They'd both forget about the incident soon. Huey shivered as Ladd pressed his hips harder against the other's, moving up and kissing Huey roughly again, his hands wandering down his sides, then reached with his hand (that was still made of flesh and not forged with metal) between Huey's legs.

“Don't tease me,” Huey hissed, and Ladd laughed as he rubbed him through the cloth. Moving down, Ladd pulled Huey's underwear around his ankles, letting him kick them off, and then pushing them off the bed.

Now, Ladd let himself focus less on teasing his love and more on pleasuring him, giving him what he wanted. Ladd took the head of Huey's cock in his mouth, and the other man gasped as he did, his fingers tangling in Ladd's hair again. His reaction egged him on, and Ladd let him push in as far as he could without choking. Huey groaned loudly, his breathing growing shallower and faster as Ladd hummed in the back of his throat, sending vibrations up Huey's spine. It didn't take long before Huey curled his toes and arched his back, letting out a cry as he came.

Huey lied there, panting softly as Ladd swallowed and released him, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. The blonde crawled back up to let his head rest on Huey's chest, his fingers rubbing gently circles on Huey's stomach. “So we just gonna lay here and sleep 'till I go out tonight?” Huey hummed slightly in though, still stroking Ladd's hair thoughtfully.

“Depends. I don't mind fucking if that's what you had planned.” The obscenity was foreign on Huey's tongue, and hearing it in his soft accent almost made both of them laugh.

“Do you want me to?” Ladd murmured. He shifted a little so that he could look into Huey's eyes. They were gleaming with excitement, and Huey's answer was simple.

“Yes.”

That was all the motivation Ladd needed, and his slight sleepiness and placidity vanished as he leaned up. Reaching over to the bedside table, Ladd opened up the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lubricant, then shut the drawer when he was done. Huey felt himself nearly going insane as he heard Ladd unbuckle his belt, then pulling down his pants and underwear swiftly, tossing them off the side of the bed. Ladd took time to carefully coat his fingers in the lubricant, then capped it and pushed the bottle out of the way. Ladd leaned against Huey, pushing his legs up so that his heels were braced against the mattress, resting one hand on his knee; the smaller man knew what was coming, and his breath hitched as he felt Ladd's fingers, slick and wet rubbing at his opening.

“You ready?” Huey nodded, and Ladd pushed one finger in, feeling Huey tighten up around him before relaxing. No matter how many times they did this, it was always a bit awkward and uncomfortable. He spread his legs a bit though, trying to make it easier for the both of them, and Ladd smiled. Once he was relaxed and Ladd was sure he wouldn't pull away, he pushed in a second finger, Huey hissing slightly with the pain of being stretched. He went on, adding two more before he pulled out, moving up so he'd have more room to work with. Balancing all of his weight onto his left arm, Ladd grinned down at Huey, who looked at him with lidded, lustful eyes. His right hand now rested on Huey's hip, and his hard cock pressed up against his leg.

“Go ahead.” Huey's voice was strained from anticipation, and Ladd could tell that he was getting tired of waiting. “Do it. Fuck me.” His impatient demands made Ladd chuckle, and the blonde shifted, pushed right into him, sliding in with ease, the back of his hips pressing up against Huey's thighs. And damn, it was just like before, just like he remembered, and Ladd groaned into Huey's shoulder as he rocked back and forth, still holding on to his hip like that. It was slow at first, and Ladd let Huey tell him when he wanted it faster, harder. Soon they were at an even, equal pace, and only the sounds of their panting and groaning filled the air, with the occasional wooden squeal from the bed.

It didn't take long for Huey to feel it first, that tightening in his stomach, heat building up inside of him. He felt his body go rigid and his muscles tighten around Ladd as he came, a choked cry coming from his throat. Ladd didn't last much longer after that, either, thrusting in deep once more, cursing softly as he came, then resting beside Huey in a post-climatic stupor, slightly dazed and very happy. He flung on arm across Huey's stomach, watching his chest rise and fall as he lied there, eyes half-closed with content. They were still both sweaty and sticky, but Ladd pulled Huey close, letting the raven-haired man cuddle close to his chest, resting a hand on the metal portion of his left arm.

“So are you leaving now?” Huey barely murmured.

“Nah. Not unless you want me to.” Huey's grip on Ladd's arm tightened. “I don't have to leave 'till tonight.”

“Mm.” Huey closed his eyes, smiling. “Je t'aime.” Ladd ran a hand through Huey's silky black locks in response.

“Je t'aime.”

Luck Gandor

Luck checked his watch again quickly, trying to make sure that Firo didn't see him glance at him for the twentieth time since they'd arrived at the train station. 7:30. It should be arriving any moment now. His head turned as he heard Firo snicker, and he knew instinctively that his hopes of covering up his anxiety and excitement had been crushed.

“Come on, Firo, you'd do the same if it was Ennis.” Luck pointed out, and Firo shrugged.

“I know I would, but it's funny ta' see _you_ do it. There aren't a lotta' people who'd think you're that kinda' guy.” He adjusted his hat a little, propping his feet up on the table that they were currently situated at. They had a good view of all of the incoming trains, so they'd be able to see when the train from New Jersey to New York came in, the one that Dallas was currently riding on. The corners of Luck's mouth turned up into a smile, and he rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he stirred his lukewarm coffee with the other hand.

“The kind of guy who gets excited for his fiancé to come home? I was under the impression that most men were like that.” Firo could tell by Luck's voice that he was only half-serious, but before he could say anything, a train pulled up and a loud voice announced its arrival. This was the one they'd been waiting for, and Luck didn't waste any time getting to his feet. Firo had been around Luck long enough to know that whatever conversation they had previously was over now, and he followed the man as he made his way down the stairs and towards the platform.

When Luck finally saw Dallas, his expression brightened a bit, but he still kept his normal polite smile on his face until the man was in his arms, letting his chin rest on Luck's shoulder as they embraced. He looked tired, and Luck knew why. He'd been away for the past two weeks straightening out family business back in New Jersey, and whenever he had to do that, it was never an easy ordeal. He'd called almost every night to rant and complain about it, and Luck didn't see any use in stopping him. It was better than him getting so pissed off that he ended up screwing things up.

“'S good to be home,” Dallas finally sighed when he pulled away from Luck, but he kept him at arm's length, one of his hands reaching down to grip Luck's. Their fingers laced together, and Luck pressed the tip of his nose against Dallas's, a full smile appearing on his face for once. If it had been any two normal men doing this in such a public place, they'd be met with scorn, no doubt, but this was Luck Gandor, and many people knew what he was capable of, so they tended not to bother him about his relationship choices.

“It's good to have you back.” Luck tilted his head down a bit more and pressed his lips to Dallas's, kissing him for the first time in too long, and when he pulled back, Dallas followed a bit, not wanting to break the kiss but knowing that he had to.

“Hey turtledoves, we've got somewhere we gotta get to,” Firo called from where he stood some ways back, one hand resting playfully on his hip. “Remember?” He waved a paper around in his hand, and Luck sighed heavily. That was right, they had a party to attend to. It was unfortunate, considering that Luck was looking forward to spending time with his fiancé, but they really didn't have any choice. It was kind of a “getting-acquainted” party with their newest partners in crime, the Acerbi family, a relatively new crime family that had gained power quite quickly. It was Keith who had first noticed their potential, and after sending Claire in to do some “research”, Luck decided that it would be wise to make friends of them, and not enemies. They certainly had a lot of those these days.

“Go somewhere? I just got home, I'm tired,” Dallas complained, pressing his free hand to his temple and rubbing his head. He then reached down to take the handle of the luggage, but Luck took it for him, squeezing the hand that he held.

“I got it.” Luck was suddenly reminded of Ladd's letter, and as the two of them left the station, he sighed gently. “Greetings aside, there's probably something I should tell you.”

“That doesn't sound good,” Dallas muttered, and Luck blinked. He had gotten quite good at reading him, even though Luck rarely showed any kind of emotion besides politely respectful or his usual deadpan. He supposed that it was different with Dallas though, since he was close to Luck on a different platform than anyone else, kind of like how Claire was with Chane. “What happened?”

“Oh, just the usual...” He murmured, and Firo interjected;

“Pissed off Ladd Russo.”

Dallas gave a loud groan, and Luck shot a heated glare at Firo, who just shrugged innocently.

“Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?” He asked, and Luck shook his head. “Good, 'cause as soon as we get home, I'm gonna thrash you silly with the first thing I get my hands on.”

Luckily for the youngest Gandor, the first thing that Dallas happened to find was a newspaper.

Later on, at a certain party...

Luck sighed heavily with boredom as he leaned against the chair that he was sitting in, his arm curled around the top of the empty chair next to him, watching as his fiancé seemingly effortlessly made himself known and ran about. He was a natural at parties, even if he didn't particularly want to go. Luck figured that it must have been partially due to him being so well-off when he was younger. From what he knew about Dallas's childhood, they'd had a lot of these parties, and he'd learned how to show himself off at a young age.

As he was sitting, Luck's breath hitched when he felt an iron grip on his shoulder. Luck knew these hands all too well, and before he said anything, the Mafiosi sighed, not turning to look. “Ladd.”

“Luck.” The blonde laughed, a frighteningly cruel laugh, and he was practically dragged into the back room, where Ladd pressed him up against the wall, his hand gripping his throat with almost surprising force. At least, it would have been surprising, if Luck had never been strangled by him before. “It's real nice to see you again. I'll try not to mess up your fancy suit, it'd be shame if you had to explain that you had _the_ Ladd Russo after you.” His grip tightened, and the bones in the other's neck let out a sickening crack, and only then did the blonde's grip relax. It didn't take long before the bones fused back together and Luck regained consciousness, looking up at Ladd as though he expected something more.

“Are you finished?” He asked, rubbing at his neck even though it didn't hurt anymore. The sensation of Ladd's hand was still there, and the bigger man just laughed.

“Yeah, I'd better get outta here anyway. I got the feeling that I'm not welcome here.” There was the sound of footsteps approaching, and before he could say anything else, the man had disappeared out of the room, and he was left sitting there as Dallas's cobalt blue eyes glared at him from the doorway.

“I know what happened, idiot, but it's over so get out of there. We ain't finished yet.” He then left, and Luck sighed as he got back on his feet.

The things that were to ensue after today were going to make Luck wish that his only problems were parties he didn't want to attend and Ladd Russo breaking his neck.

Eve Genoard, a few hours after the party

It was almost three o'clock when Luck and Dallas finally return. Eve wasn't present when they first came home, she was busy driving out some bothersome thugs from the northern border, but she was now. She had been situated on the couch when they came to the apartment that she, Luck, his brothers (excluding Claire), and Dallas shared. Dallas was obviously quite inebriated, and Luck himself wasn't completely sober, but he dragged the giggling and stumbling man upstairs before he could mess up anything downstairs. On one hand, Eve was relieved, but on the other she was also annoyed. She had missed her brother too, after all, and it wasn't like she'd had any more contact with him than Luck had over the past few weeks. He always insisted that she didn't come with him when he went to sort out family problems, telling her that he could handle it himself since he was technically the heir, but it always bothered Eve that he did everything on his own.

“Dallas,” she sighed, shaking her head slightly as she went back to reading her book. It was because of her brother that she'd gotten involved with the Gandors in the first place. He'd ran off and joined them way back in 1930. It seemed so long ago, but in truth it was only three years. To be honest, Eve was finding it difficult to remember where she'd been three years ago, what had happened, all of the events that had been before she joined the family herself. She didn't find any of it peculiar though, or strange, belonging to a crime family. In all technicality, she had belonged to one even before she joined the Gandors, even though her family didn't do much of the whole “territory” and blazing-gun thing that they did. She didn't expect to get so used to it, but now, the feeling of a gun in her hands was the same as holding her Bible.

After Luck and Dallas had gotten engaged, she kind of stopped caring about trying to be any kind of “normal”, and now she figured that was a good thing. When you stop trying to define normal, you don't find anything out of the norm. You don't find anything peculiar.

Despite the noise that ensued upstairs, Eve fell asleep peacefully on the couch with her book placed nonchalantly over her eyes.


	2. Jacuzzi Splot Fails to appear intimidating Before Graham Spector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's what's what: Chane Laforet speaks, but only for those who care to listen. Dallas Genoard is unafraid to speak the truth. Keith Gandor does not tremble before the storm. The Government is watching them.

Here's what's what: Chane Laforet speaks, but only for those who care to listen. Dallas Genoard is unafraid to speak the truth. Keith Gandor does not tremble before the storm. The Government is watching them.

Jacuzzi Splot Fails to appear intimidating Before Graham Spector

1933 (March)

Jacuzzi Splot

Jacuzzi Splot was trembling in his boots. But there wasn't really anything new about that. Jacuzzi was _always_ trembling about something, whether he wanted to or not, and there was rarely ever a time when he wasn't shaking like a Chihuahua. Now was definitely not one of those times, especially considering that he was facing Graham Spector, the man who had just effortlessly disarmed him and was now watching him the way a cat would watch a mouse, swinging his oversized wrench in one hand. Jacuzzi had been caught in this less-than-pleasant situation after Luck had told him to go check out some “suspicious movement” over by the western most border, where the Gandor's territory and the Russo's territory met. Jacuzzi hadn't _wanted_ to go, but he couldn't exactly ignore an order from his boss, so he went without voicing his complaints. Now that he looked back on it, he realized that he probably should have begged a little bit harder.

“Ah, let me tell you a very sad story,” the blonde rambled, and Jacuzzi leaned back on his heels as Graham approached, circling around him menacingly. “About the pitiful sight that I have before me. Before I disarmed you, your eyes didn't show fear, but now that I'm the one with the upper hand, you shake and tremble like a dog. Why is it that people become so much bolder when they have a weapon in their hands? I certainly don't understand it, I treat them the same regardless of whether or not I'm armed.”

“I-I'm not scared!” Jacuzzi stuttered, an obvious lie, and he attempted to straighten himself up as Graham laughed. “I-I-I'll fight you right now, w-with no weapon in my hands!” He was obviously trying to be bold and intimidating, but it fell flat on the mechanic's ears as he knocked the boy's feet out from under him. Jacuzzi fell flat on his back and looked up into Graham's blue eyes, gleaming with malicious intent.

“You make me want to laugh and kill you at the same time,” he smirked. “You remind me of a little dog that barks and barks, trying to intimidate a big dog, but when the big dog barks the little dog runs away with his tail between his legs! But you aren't going to get that chance, are you?” Jacuzzi gulped as Graham's face drew close to his, his eyes gleaming as he raised the wrench above his head. Even though they were both immortal, the fear of death was still imminent in Jacuzzi's eyes, and he didn't _like_ dying no matter how many times he went through it.

Before he could feel the pain of metal connecting with flesh and bones, he heard a soft noise and turned to look. Graham was distracted as well, and Jacuzzi recognized the small item that had rolled towards them as a bomb. Before he could say anything, however, a pair of strong hands gripped him by the back of the shirt and dragged him out of the line of fire, pulling him to his feet and taking him down the street as the explosion echoed behind them. Holding on securely to his hand was Nice Holystone, his long-time partner and distinguished lady friend.

“Nice! Thank God that you came to save me!” Nice just laughed at his words, and they managed to make it a few blocks before they stopped, holding onto each other and panting. It certainly wasn't the first time that he'd been saved by her, and it wouldn't be the last.

1930 (November)

Dallas Genoard

“Dallas Genoard, I presume?” Luck asked the man who stood before him, with one hand shoved nonchalantly in his coat pocket and the other hand resting on his hip, regarding him with a mix of curiosity and contempt. This man had requested to meet with him the other day, regarding the topic of joining with the Gandors, but Luck hadn't been present. He was there now, however, and Dallas's eyes showed no fear or weariness for the notorious crime leader.

“That's me.” Dallas's lips curled upwards into a crude smile, and Luck's fingertips tapped the top of his desk rhythmically. His golden eyes narrowed a bit, showing distaste for the man's obviously disrespectful demeanor. He wasn't making very good first impressions, and the middle Genoard was known for the trouble he caused around the city. However, he was also known for his impressive skills with a sword, and this interested Luck greatly. “You had a chance to think about my offer?”

“I hear you've got a knack for swordsmanship.” Luck replied coolly, as though disregarding Dallas's question. “How good are you?”

“Would you like me to show you?” Dallas countered, pulling back the bottom of his coat to reveal the ornate handle and sheath for a large sword. Rather than feeling frightened or intimidated, Luck's curiosity was peaked.

“Not here, but you can show me in another way.” He pushed a picture of a man towards Dallas, and he picked it up and looked at it with disinterest. “This man happens to be one of Ladd Russo’s close associates. He also happens to be the cause of a lot of our troubles as of recently. You follow?” Dallas nodded, tucking the photograph into his front shirt pocket.

“You want me to kill him?” He asked.

“In simple terms,” Luck replied. “If you can do that, you’re accepted.” The only reason he was telling Dallas this was because he knew that it would be an impossibly task. Although the man that he’d set his sights on was mortal, and everyone who’d tried to kill him so far had been immortal, all had failed. He doubted that someone like Dallas would even be able to get close to him.

“I’ll bring back his head in a box,” Dallas told him strongly, and Luck curiously raised a slender eyebrow.

“Of course you will.”

****

Luck didn’t see Dallas again for three days. By the end of the third day, he was almost certain that he wouldn’t be seeing him again. He was wrong, however, and just as Luck was preparing to go run some late-night errands, Dallas pushed open the door. He was noticeably roughed up, and he held a large box under his arm.

“Miss me?” He grinned, showing his split and bleeding lower lip. Dallas proceeded to walk over to Luck’s desk, placing the box on the desktop and leaning heavily on its side. “Sorry it took so long. I had a lot of stuff I had to do.” Luck could tell that his apology was not so much an apology as an excuse, but he opened up the box anyway. It only took one look into the bloodstained box to tell that Dallas had kept his promise from three days ago.

“You really did it,” Luck stated in slight disbelief. He’d been caught off guard, it was very obvious, and this appeared to please Dallas greatly. As he put the top back on, Dallas looked at him with expectant eyes. “You know what this means, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, can’t turn back now, blah, blah, blah,” Dallas recited impatiently, and Luck again found himself annoyed, yet intrigued with the man.

Needless to say, Dallas Genoard became an immortal, and a permanent member of the Gandor mafia family that night.

1933 (March)

“So you’re absolutely sure that these are the men we’re looking for?” Manfred Barium asked one of his many workers who stood before him. He had two pictures on the desktop in front of him, one of Luck Gandor, and another of Ladd Russo. He’d long been interested in the secret of immortality, and upon hearing that two stocks of the elixir existed in the city, he’d immediately sent out people to look for it and find out who was keeping it hidden. It was possible that the men in the pictures in front of him were the men that he was looking for.

“Yes. I made sure to question a large number of people, there’s no doubt that these are the men that we’re looking for.” The senator ran a hand along his chin in thought, his face still blank and unreadable.

“Contact Bartolo Runorata and the police chief. We’re going to need a little bit of extra help for this endeavor.” He knew exactly how he’d disguise it. A crackdown on organized crime, when in truth, he’d only be seeking out the secret of the immortality that these two men, and the closest members of their organization possessed.

He was about to play a dangerous game of poker with some very experienced opponents, and his only way of winning would be to cheat his way to the top.

Chane Laforet

Chane had a story, and a lengthy one, but she would only tell those who were willing to listen. Of course, this story wouldn’t be oral. She had lost her ability to speak on her own accord when she was much younger. Although she could no longer vocalize, she knew well the art of speaking with her mind, but the only problem with that was that those who were not listening would never hear her, no matter how “loud” her thoughts became. Now that she looked back on it, and the two different paths that she and her father had taken, she was starting to almost regret that choice.

It was true that Chane had not always been a part of the Gandors, and she had acquired her immortality after she joined the Russo family. She and her father had once been high-ranking members of the Lemures, but once the man in charge lost his mind, they were quick to flee. For a while she remained with the Russos, until she met Claire. She hadn’t fallen in love with him at first sight, but he had fallen in love with her, loudly proclaiming his love the first time they had faced each other. At first, Chane regarded him as nothing but a lunatic, a crazed man who had no idea what he was saying. After he had the audacity to venture far into the Russo territory to speak to her, however, and had managed to get past both her father and Ladd Russo, Chane found herself drawn towards him.

Their love was forbidden, however, and Chane knew that so long as she remained in the Russo family that it would be difficult, if not impossible to remain with Claire. The way he told it, Claire had “convinced” his brother to accept his lady love, and an intricate plot was carried out to get Chane on the Gandor side of New York City. She was almost surprised that no one had come after her, and Chane had never stepped foot on Russo territory after that. She knew without a doubt that Ladd would show her no mercy if she did, and her father wouldn’t stop him from destroying her completely. They had been married not too long after that, she and Claire had, and the celebration was grand. As far as she knew, Chane was the only person who’d managed to escape the Russos, join the Gandors, and live.

“Hey Chane! Dinner with my brothers tonight?” Claire called from his room upstairs in their house, waving a sheet of paper about that Luck had sent to ask Claire if he “would be so kind as to join them for dinner.”

 _Of course_ , she replied, a small smile showing on her lips. Very rarely did Chane smile, and often, she only did it for Claire. The only man who always listened, no matter how far away he was or how obscure Chane’s stories became.

One day she’d tell the story of her childhood to someone. It would probably…no, it would be Claire. She knew.

Keith Gandor

Keith Gandor did not wake before 12:00 on weekends. Everyone in his immediate family and close circle of associates knew this. Everyone except, it appeared, the creature who was currently licking the side of his face. He couldn't really get angry at Lykouros, though; he was a wolf, and wolves did not have a reliable sense of time. He was probably hungry anyway, and Keith swatted at him with one arm, pushing the Timber wolf off the side of the bed. There was no use getting back to sleep now, and Keith rubbed the wolf's saliva off of his face before sitting up.

The Gandors had come into possession of the wolf when Claire decided on a whim that they had to have a dog. Someone down the street had said that they were selling puppies, and Keith had been skeptical at first, but he found it hard to resist when this pup practically leapt from the cardboard box he was in and tumbled onto his feet. They'd brought the little pup home, and at first they thought he was just a normal dog. After a few weeks, it became obvious that he was anything but, and they soon discovered that he was indeed a full-blooded Timber wolf. With that in mind, Keith gave him a fitting name; Lykouros, a Greek name meaning “wolf king”. Ever since then, he'd become the Gandors prized family pet. He'd also been quick to give his favorite pet some of the elixir of immortality, much to Luck's chagrin. No one else besides them knew about it yet, although the incident had happened quite a few years ago.

When Keith finally made his way downstairs, Lykouros was quick to jump out of the dog door in the back to mess around in the alleyways and such behind the apartment that they lived in. Eve was currently the only one sitting at the table, hair limp and untamed around her shoulders, still wearing her nightgown. She was currently reading the paper, and when Keith sat at the table with a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, she pushed it his way.

“Look. It looks like some of the Russo's high-ranking men went missing. They're all mortals so far, though, and it doesn't look like anyone's trying to go after Graham or the Duchess anytime soon.” “The Duchess” was the code name, almost a nickname that the Gandors used for Huey, originally used as a negative name, but the Frenchman seemed to wear it with pride now. Keith wasn't surprised; whoever happened to be taking these men obviously knew a lot about Ladd Russo. No doubt that he was probably pissed about his men going missing, but if anyone dared try to lay a hand on his Duchess, he'd go insane. There was an isolated incident a while back where a few small-time thugs had tried to jump him, and unfortunately, Ladd had been in close proximity. As far as Keith knew, none of them got out of it alive.

Keith's brow furrowed with worry, and suddenly he felt Lykouros's head on his leg. Looking down, the wolf looked up at him with pleading brown eyes, and Keith handed him what was left of the toast. He stroked the wolf's ears gently as Eve looked back over at him, putting her chin in the palm of her hand. “Do you think that they're going to come after us?” She asked. Keith had an uncanny knack for predicting these things, and he shrugged. The chances of them being targeted next were high, but he was not afraid. Keith did not get afraid. He did not tremble and shake.

He only packed an umbrella and a lightning rod and prepared for the coming storm.

 


	3. The Rumble Downtown Does Not Have a Clear Winner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's what's what: They fight like cats and dogs. Huey Laforet is never happy with any kind of tie, including his own. The Gandors are not thrilled at the prospect of war.

The Rumble Downtown Does Not Have a Clear Winner

1933 (April)

The Rumble

Of course, Ladd's revenge on Luck didn't go unnoticed for much longer. Luck finally caved in and told his brothers a few weeks later, and by the way Berga reacted you'd think that Luck had died permanently. He wanted to go after Ladd immediately, but Keith managed to calm him down to the point of negotiation. While they pondered over what to do, an exasperated Firo had burst in through the door, holding a scrap of paper in his hand tightly as though it were the final remnants of an ancient language. It only had a few words on it:

“Tonight, midnight, rumble downtown, bring your soldiers.” It wasn't signed, but it didn't have to be. They knew exactly who it was from, and the purpose. Ladd wanted a fight, and Luck was going to give it to him.

It had been quite a while since the two rival gangs had faced each other in a planned battle. Usually, they fought through guerrilla warfare, hitting each other strategically. In the end, though, it was really just a game. Neither family was aiming to completely destroy the other. If they did, well, what fun would that be? There were no other families nearly as powerful or as equally matched as the Gandors and the Russos, unless you counted the Runoratas, who seemed out to decimate both families. Although they were strong, they didn't have an intelligent command chain, so they failed to launch a successful attack on them. It was a bloody game that cost mortal lives, but the King and the Duke continued to play.

Quite a few of Luck's men had been eager to fight since the incident by the westernmost border. Nice and Jacuzzi had been pursued halfway across the Gandor's territory, before Graham had made the wise decision to fall back. Dallas had been straining like a dog on a leash ever since he and Luck returned home, pining desperately for a fight. He was almost like a hunting dog, bred from hundreds of years of careful breeding, watching the rabbit jump a few feet away from his muzzle. Being away from the action for two weeks had nearly killed him, and Luck knew that if he didn't let all of his pent up energy out soon, he'd quickly become pissed and volatile. The last thing Luck wanted was for some poor mortal to end up without a head due to his Queen's insanity.

And so, midnight arrived, and Luck led his troops to the battleground, navy blue shapes against inky black walls. This was the area they chose, the site of a long-abandoned factory, taking their positions. It wasn't long before Ladd arrived, his figure visible even in the low lighting, what little light there was gleaming off of his metal forearm. During these kinds of fights, more like play fights really, they usually only brought their immortals, and a few of the stronger mortals. At his side, Luck felt Dallas quiver in excitement, and he knew that he'd spotted Huey. While Luck and Ladd's rivalry ran deep, Dallas had a special loathing of the Duchess. Dallas blamed Huey for making his initial kill that brought him into the Gandor family take so long, and Luck knew that they had fought before Dallas had become immortal. A small jagged cut that sat just below his temple (normally covered by his hair, but Luck saw it every once and a while) revealed that fact.

“Luck.” Ladd spoke as he stepped forward into the middle of the crumbling structure, positioning himself on a fallen slab of cement. The moonlight that filtered through the broken roof caught and illuminated Ladd's figure, turning his hair silver.

“Ladd.” Luck too stepped forward, and the others stayed back. They knew that the first confrontation was always between the leaders, at least in a fight like this. The two of them only stared at first, sizing each other up like two hounds ready to fight for the position of Alpha. That's all this was, really, a challenge for bragging rights. Ladd had managed to win last time, earning him the momentary title of Alpha Duke, but Luck was ready to take it from him once again.

The tense atmosphere finally exploded when Ladd pounced, thrusting himself forward, slamming his fist hard into Luck's jaw. The loud crack resonated immediately, and the sound was like a cue. With that, the other men were quick to surge forward, meeting in the middle like two small armies, the sounds of gunshots and metal and bones against flesh.

Luck stumbled backwards after Ladd hit him, but he managed to dodge the lethal punches that the bigger man threw his way. It was obvious that Ladd was much stronger physically than he was, and Luck knew that if he was able to get a good hold on him or get him in a position to hit him easily then it would be all over. Although Ladd may have been stronger, Luck was smart and he could move quickly, and that was what he was using to his advantage.

Luck managed to dive into a pile of fallen rafters, wood, and cement blocks, squeezing his way into a few of the gaps between the sharp, dangerous splinters of rubble, trying to give himself enough time to get his gun and load it. Sure, he knew that should have been done earlier, but he wanted to play with Ladd a little bit before he started shooting at him. Of course, the blonde was quick to follow him, but he was much bigger than Luck and too big to fit through the small openings. He growled, obviously unhappy with this predicament, but he started clawing at the wood and cement nonetheless, trying to make a way for himself. Luck knew that his hideout wouldn't last very long, so he pulled the gun from his jacket, going to load it as quickly as he could.

It wasn't long before he felt someone crash in beside him, and Dallas pressed up against his back. Luck leaned into his welcoming warmth, and Dallas looked at him over his shoulder. His ornamental sword was clutched in his hand, and he was panting heavily. Luck looked away from his gun if only for a moment, and he grinned at Dallas.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Dallas laughed a little, pressing up against Luck a bit more.

“Who you hidin' from?”

“Who do you think?” Luck motioned to the path he'd taken to get in there, where Ladd was digging furiously, a badger trying to dig out his prey. He was making good progress, and Luck quickly put the bullets into the chamber. “Who are _you_ hiding from?”

“I'm not hidin' from anybody, I came to check on you.” Dallas gave a halfhearted shove against Luck's shoulder, and the mobster shooed him away. Dallas just smirked and pulled himself out the back side where he'd fallen in, and by the sounds that ensued he knew that he'd taken up fighting with Huey again.

In the meantime, Ladd finally broke through the last rafter separating him from Luck, and he jumped on the man, pinning him down by placing both hands on his chest. A winning grin spread across his face, but it quickly disappeared as Luck pressed the barrel of his gun against the other man's forehead, a sly smile showing on Luck's face.

“Checkmate.”

Ladd knew that he'd lost even before the sound of a gunshot rang through his ears.

Huey Laforet

Although he'd healed immediately, the force of having his skull blown out kept Ladd from waking up right away. When he finally did, he found himself back in his bed, and he groaned slightly, stretching out his sleep-heavy muscles. Turning his head, he saw Huey sitting at the desk he'd positioned near the bed, watching as Huey tugged at his tie that had gone askew in the fight, obviously trying to take it off but failing. He'd never had much luck with neck-ware, and Ladd felt a little smile cross his face as he eased himself out of bed and stood behind Huey, easily loosening the tie and letting it slide down into Huey's lap. The Frenchman tilted his head back to look into Ladd's eyes, one eyebrow raised slightly.

“You lost.”

“What else is new, Huey?”

“I thought you'd be a bit more angry about it.”

“Angry? I'm fucking pissed.” Ladd's hand slid around Huey's neck, his fingers tightening a bit. Huey didn't flinch at all, he was used to this, what with him being the one that Ladd chose to love. Although the only thing that really meant was that he was the one man that Ladd wanted to kill most of all, the one that he'd spend an eternity with his hands at his throat...and yet, Ladd didn't press any further. Didn't kill him, even though he knew he'd come back. Sure, he'd stabbed him a couple times, made wounds, but never actually _killed_ him. It was as though he was...waiting. For a better time.

“Mhm. You plan on fixing it anytime soon?”

“Well first, we've gotta figure out what's going on with the missing men. _Then_ I'll go back and beat Gandor's ass.” Huey smirked, and Ladd leaned down to kiss him at the same time that Huey leaned up.

Luck Gandor

As soon as the sunlight filtered in through the curtains, Luck awoke, sitting up and yawning. He turned his head a little to see Dallas, still curled up and sleeping soundly. They had “celebrated” rather well last night, and he knew that Dallas wouldn't be waking for quite some time.

Once he'd gotten dressed and made himself look presentable, Luck made his way downstairs. Eve was at her usual perch at the kitchen table, and Berga was still snoring on the couch. It was around this time of the morning that Keith took Lykouros on his morning walk, so they were the only two in the house since Claire hadn't stayed over last night. Eve had been nibbling slowly at a piece of toast in her hand while reading the paper, but she looked up at Luck when he entered the room.

“Good morning, Casanova,” she told him, and Luck felt heat rush to his face. “Yeah, I heard, you two really need to learn how to quiet down.” She pushed a plate of toast towards him, and Luck took it, sitting beside her. “I managed to find out more about the Russo's missing men. Apparently, the police are involved.”

“Some kinda' bust?” Luck asked, and Eve shook her head.

“No. There's someone else involved as well.”

“Who?”

“Take a guess.”

“The Runoratas.” Eve's silence was all he needed as an answer, and Luck's jaw tightened. “So you're saying that they're working together?”

“Yeah. Apparently there's been a lot of money changing hands, but it doesn't all lead back to the police and the Runoratas. Some of it leads back to a guy, a Senator Barium.”

“Not surprising.” Barium was known throughout the immortal community, a man who was nearly obsessed with the secret of the elixir. Luck's fists curled a bit as he tapped his fingers on the table. “Is that all?”

“Yeah. It looks like war, Luck.”

He didn't have anything to disprove her claim, and although he hated to admit it, she was probably right. They had a war on their hands.


	4. Despite his partner's wishes, Bartolo Runorata sets his sights on Dallas Genoard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's what's what: The police strike a little too close to home for Ennis. Maiza Avaro vows to protect his children at all costs. The futures of both the Gandor and Russo families are very uncertain.

May (1933)

Ennis

The fangs of the police had been bared, and now they had finally lashed out to bite the Gandor family square in the leg. Unfortunately, Ennis had been caught in the line of fire, and she was now attempting to evade the officers who'd tailed her straight into the heart of Gandor territory. Now, Ennis was crouching awkwardly behind large cartons of produce in one of the warehouses not too far from the apartment complex that Luck lived in. Normally, Ennis would have fought with the police officers, but there had been too many. She knew her limits, and although the policemen were mortal and she was not, Ennis was also unarmed, whereas the policemen all had at least one handgun on them, sometimes a rifle. Bullets hurt, and it usually took a while for Ennis to become conscious after being killed. The last thing she needed to do was get herself captured.

There was the sound of footsteps, and Ennis sat perfectly still and kept absolutely silent. There were muffled voices, people drawing closer. The only thing Ennis could hear now was the sound of her own heart beating, blood rushing through her ears. The feet were drawing closer, Ennis could hear the policemen start to laugh, laughing at their perceived victory. Suddenly, there was the sound of a man's yell, and the policemen were howling in confusion. Shots rang out, and from where she sat, Ennis could see the figure of a very familiar tall, spectacled man fighting off the policemen. Realizing they'd been outdone, the men fled, and Ennis finally appeared from her hiding place.

“Are you alright, Ennis?” Maiza Avaro, the bookkeeper for the Gandors asked, readjusting his glasses that had gone askew in the fight. He was bleeding in a few places, but the blood was already starting to recede. Ennis stood, albeit a bit shakily, but she rushed forward to embrace Maiza nonetheless.

“I'm alright,” she murmured as she pulled away. Maiza gently rested a hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into his grip thankfully. “How did you know I was in trouble?”

“I saw the police run by. They were looking for someone, and with the Russo men going missing, I thought that they were probably tailing someone.” Just as Maiza finished speaking, another figure appeared in the doorway. Maiza and Ennis tensed at first, preparing for another fight, until they noticed who it was.

“What happened in here? I saw the policemen runnin' down the street, screamin' like pigs out for slaughter,” Firo exclaimed, and Ennis ran over to him as well, not hesitating to throw her arms around his shoulders.

“Firo, you're alright,” she sighed in relief, and she pulled back as Firo nuzzled her hair affectionately. “I was tailed by the police from the edge of the southeast boarder all the way up here. They saw me and started shooting.” Firo's eyes took on a look of anger, and his body swelled like an angry alley cat.

“Buncha' no good, dirty rotten...” He launched into a string of Italian that Maiza looked shocked at. Ennis hadn't spent much time studying the language, but she did catch a few words here and there. Despite his anger, Ennis stayed in Firo's arms, the protection he offered too enticing to ignore. “Can't we go after 'em now?”

“No, we have to report this back to Luck,” Maiza replied firmly. “We must go, we should try to warn everyone in case they return.”

Later that day

Maiza

Maiza didn't return home until late that night. Luck had been quite furious when Maiza told him what had happened. This was, in his eyes, unacceptable, and so far as Maiza knew, he was currently creating an idea for a counter attack. Maiza was to be on standby until he was called for, so he had a feeling that he wouldn't sleep well tonight if he slept at all. He had something else to attend to at the moment, however.

“Czeslaw,” Maiza called softly as he stepped into the living room. “Czes, come out, I'm here.” The bundle of blankets quivered on the couch, and a little boy who appeared to be no older than ten appeared, his eyes wide and innocent like a fawn. In truth, he was an immortal like Maiza, over two hundred years old, and at this point he was no longer innocent. Immortality did that to a person. Maiza had taken the boy in after a string of incidents long ago had landed him on his own. At the time, Maiza was also raising Firo, so he'd taken both of them in almost as if they were his own children. Ennis came not too much longer after that, a homunculus who was created by a man gone mad by his immortality. A man who was later devoured by Firo to save his soon to be lover.

Maiza was so caught up in his reawakened patriarchal emotions that he almost failed to notice Czeslaw's hand, timid and gentle tugging at his shirt.

“Maiza?” He asked quietly, and Maiza looked down at him. “What happened today?”

“Nothing you need to be worried about, Czeslaw,” Maiza assured him, gently stroking the boy's soft black hair. “It'll be alright.”

Maiza knew then that he would do whatever he had to do to keep his children safe.

Luck Gandor

This was a very delicate situation the Gandors had fallen into. A very delicate, very dangerous situation that could come crashing down on top of them.

“There's no way for this to end well, is there?” Luck sighed, looking over at Dallas who lied spread out on the bed beside him. “Not with this.”

“Why?” Dallas asked, rolling onto his stomach to look at Luck. “The police've fucked around with us before, and we beat 'em. Same with the Runoratas.”

“It's different this time,” Luck murmured, moving closer to Dallas and putting an arm around his waist. “If we go after them now in retaliation, then they'll have something to legally hold against us. If we wait, they'll be back. And I'm sure the Runoratas are waiting to come after us, too.”

“We'll be okay,” Dallas assured him, gently slipping his fingers into the spaces between Luck's. “There's no need to be worried about the Runoratas. Compared to us, they're small time.” Although Luck knew that was at least partially true, Dallas's optimism wasn't shared by Luck.

Bartolo Runorata

“Genoard? As in, Eve Genoard?”

“No, sir. We've confirmed that both siblings are with the Gandors, and that both siblings are immortal, but Eve is not Luck Gandor's main concern.”

“So Dallas Genoard is the fiance of Luck Gandor?”

“Yes. That also means that, if anything were to happen to him, there will be trouble.”

“...Forget that. Set your sights on Genoard and bring him to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

The other line went dead, and Bartolo Runorata set the receiver down with a click. His finger tapped the desk, and he addressed Manfred Barium with his words but not his eyes.

“How did Dallas Genoard become the crown jewel of the Gandor family?” He asked, partially to himself and partially to Barium. The senator shifted from where he sat near the window, peering out at the starry sky.

“That isn't exactly our main concern,” he said through a clenched jaw. “I hope there is some reasoning behind you going after Dallas so quickly.”

“Of course there is. If we can capture Dallas and bring him here, then Luck will come to us. His immortal companions will most certainly follow.”

“That may not be the best plan of action,” Barium warned. “Luck Gandor is not kind or fair when those he cares about are attacked. He has been known to wage vendettas. Some even say that he is madder than Ladd Russo.”

“If you were afraid for your, or your family's safety, Senator, then you would not have targeted the immortals,” Bartolo stated harshly. “In order to kill the hornets, you must first kick the hornet's nest.”


	5. Against Ladd's advice, Graham attempts to Rescue their Captured Comrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's what's what: Although she fights valiantly, Lua Klein cannot escape her captors. Tensions between the Gandors and the Runoratas reach the boiling point. Isaac Dian and Miria Harvent attempt undercover spy work.

Against Ladd's advice, Graham attempts to Rescue their Captured Comrade

Lua Klein

This wasn't the first time Lua had woke up in handcuffs. This also wasn't the first time she'd woke up behind bars. There was something...different about this time, though. Something more fishy than all of the other times.

“Such a pretty lady like you shouldn't waste her beauty in a suit,” the rough, low voice of a man said from outside the bars, and Lua's head whipped around to find its source. The sudden movement made her vision blur and her stomach lurch, so Lua forced herself to remain still and let it pass. The man finally revealed himself, and Lua's eyes narrowed. “I'm Gustavo Bagetta of the Runorata family. Sorry we had to put a few holes in that pretty head of yours, but it's not like you had anything to worry about.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Gustavo,” Lua grinned. “I can see you've injected me with something nausea-inducing. Very clever, but I'm afraid that won't stop me from tearing you apart.” Her words dripped with anger, and she struggled a bit against her restraints. It was then she found that she'd been chained to the wall, and her inner disposition switched from quietly loathing to a raging inferno.

“Don't feel so bad about an upset stomach, dollface. It'll pass, and don't bother trying to get out of those chains. Only I have they keys to let you out.” He dangled them from one finger in front of the bars, and Lua shifted in her place, the fire growing in her eyes. “So you might as well get comfortable, 'cause you're gonna be here for a while.”

“It won't be long. Ladd will come, and believe me, he'll be much nicer to you than I will,” she laughed, spitting at the man who was only just out of spitting range.

“We'll see about that,” Gustavo muttered, and then the sound of a door slamming told Lua that she was alone.

“...you'd better come get me, Ladd, or else when I get out I'm gonna kill you,” Lua muttered, looking down at her ankles as she began to carry out her escape plan.

Graham Spector

“So what're we gonna do about this, Boss Ladd?” Graham asked, watching as Ladd paced back and forth across the spacious living room of the house he lived in. He'd been visibly angered and almost shaken at the news of Lua's capture, and neither Graham nor Huey had seen him this way. His behavior and emotions were starting to transfer to the two of them, as well. “Are we gonna go get her back? Maybe they're holding the other guys too.” Graham's hands itched to dismantle something, so he set his sights on one of Ladd's many figurines of transportation vehicles. Grabbing a steamboat, Graham went to work on taking it apart with one of his small screwdrivers.

“No, the other guys were taken by the police,” Ladd pointed out. He clawed at the cuticles of his fingernails until they bled, but his adrenaline numbed the pain. It didn't really matter, anyway, since the wounds closed up rapidly. “It was the Runoratas who took Lua.”

“But should we go after them?” Graham repeated, the small screws of the figurine materializing in a pile on the coffee table in front of him. By the way his hands were moving, Ladd could tell that he was ready for retaliation.

“No. We can't risk more people getting taken by the Runoratas. We should wait.” Ladd shot an intense glare in Graham's direction. The last piece of the figurine fell with a “ting” onto the coffee table, and the mechanic's fingers drummed on his leg. Never idle, never stopping.

“Boss—”

“No, Graham,” Ladd snapped, and the other blonde frowned over at him. Ladd had said a lot of things to him, but he'd never snapped at him like that. However, a thought began to bubble in his head, and only the sudden light in his eyes betrayed this.

“Whatever you say, boss,” Graham said, his voice taking on its usual, almost musical quality. With that, he was gone, slipping out through the kitchen and out the back door.

“He's going to do it, isn't he?” Ladd sighed, turning to Huey.

“Probably.”

Luck Gandor

“Are you absolutely certain you heard that?”

“A hundred percent. There's no doubts, they wanna draw you in.”

“Okay. Thanks, Claire.”

“No problem. Hey, before you go, you got anything else for me? Some people you want me to kill?”

“Claire...just...try to stay low right now, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, if you say so. Bye now!”

Luck hung up the phone on his energetic brother, then walked two feet to the nearest couch and collapsed on top of it. He hadn't slept since the chase with Ennis, and this news only frustrated and exhausted him further. The fact that the Runoratas had been bold enough to kidnap Lua Klein was disturbing to say the least. And then the eavesdropped phone call with Bartolo Runorata...a sick feeling rose in his stomach. Going after his friends was one thing. Going after his fiance...

Luck felt another weight by his head, and suddenly his head was pulled into the other's lap. Luck didn't protest or move away when he felt hands, rough and calloused from years of sword handling stroke the underside of his jaw, then slowly pet his hair.

“I heard about what happened,” Dallas stated, his fingers rubbing circles behind Luck's ear. “Don't you worry, I can take care of myself. The Runoratas have been after me since Dad and Jefferey were killed.” Luck closed his eyes, stayed silent as Dallas continued to pet his hair. “You haven't slept in days. Sleep.”

“Dallas,” Luck started to protest, to push himself up, but Dallas pressed a hand to the small of Luck's back, pushing him back down on the couch. Luck put his head back in Dallas's lap again, and he continued to stroke Luck's hair.

“Shh, sleep,” Dallas murmured, and Luck had to admit, sleep was very tempting right now. Luck closed his eyes again, clinging tightly to Dallas as though he were but a child and the other was his mother, slowly lulling him off to sleep with a low, deep hum.

Isaac Dian and Miria Harvent

“Did you hear that, Miria?”

“What, Isaac?”

“It looks like someone's after Dallas, the Runorata family or something like that.”

“That's terrible, Isaac! What should we do?”

“Hmm...what should we do...” The man, Isaac Dian stated as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He and his partner in crime, Miria Harven sat, crouched outside of the door to the room that Luck and Dallas were in. They'd been listening to Luck's exchange on the phone, and then the couple's exchange, and they decided that it was time to take matters into their own hands. They had come into the care of the Gandors back in 1930 after attempting to steal a large sum of money from them. While Luck was irked at the idea of the money being taken, he was strangely charmed by the two crooks' hilarious personalities, so he decided to keep them around. They'd discovered the elixir on their own after sneaking around in the Gandor's wine cellar and, thinking that it was some kind of expensive wine, drank it. Nobody really had the heart to devour them, or even to tell them they were immortal really. While they may not have been the sharpest knives in the drawer, they did know that they owed a lot to Luck, so the idea that someone was after his fiance was quite terrible to them.

“I've got it! We're going to be spies!” Isaac announced, and Miria's eyes brightened.

“That's a wonderful idea, Isaac!” Her large smile faded a bit as she tilted her head. “But how are we going to pull it off?”

“Isn't it obvious, my dear? We'll just pretend to be policemen, looking for information on the Gandor family from the Runoratas!”

“That's so great!”

“Isn't it, Miria? And, because we're policemen, we can even search their houses to see if we can find any of their battle plans.”

“Isaac, you are so smart,” Miria exclaimed as her mouth dropped open, and Isaac grinned and puffed out his chest.

“Aren't I? So what are we waiting for, we've got uniforms to steal!”

“You've got it, Isaac!”

As the courageous duo took off down the hallway, Keith poked his head around the corner of his door, watching curiously, then reminded himself to check up on them later.

Graham Spector

“Boss, I thought that Ladd told you specifically not to do this...”

“That he did, Shaft, but you see, I don't think that Boss Ladd was in the right state of mind to be making these kinds of serious decisions. See, when I was talking to him earlier, he was obviously very distressed, which is unlike Boss Ladd. You see, Shaft, it would be like taking orders from someone who is mentally ill.”

“So you're trying to say that he's mentally ill?”

“No, no, no, Shaft, try to listen more closely when I speak! What I'm saying is, he's not in the right state of mind. Like a mentally ill person.”

“Of course.”

Graham and his partner, Reuben Shaft, were currently sitting in a car parked right outside of the Runorata's mansion where witnesses had reported that the people who'd kidnapped Lua had gone to.

“So now that you're finished talking, are we going to do this?”

“Of course. Let's go.”

**

 _Just a little to the left..._ Lua thought as she tried to ease herself out of the handcuffs. She'd managed to get herself out of the cuffs around her ankles, seeing how they had been much too large to easily fit on her petite bones, but the handcuffs proved to be more difficult. Just as she finally thought she had it, there was the sound of bars being smashed, and men screaming. Lua looked up from her handiwork, expecting to see Gustavo standing there, but instead seeing Graham, holding his wrench tightly in both hands while he panted heavily.

“Graham,” she muttered, sitting up a bit from the slouched position she was in. The nausea had finally faded, and she turned a bit so Graham could get the cuffs off of her. “Where's Ladd?”

“Boss Ladd,” he started to say as he quickly loosened the bolts on the cuffs, “is at home. He wasn't going to take immediate action, said it'd be better if we waited.”

“I'm going to kill him,” Lua vowed as she felt the cuffs slide off. Standing up, she rubbed at her wrists that had been rubbed red. The marks soon disappeared into her pale skin, and Shaft's head appeared from around the doorway.

“Hey Boss, we need to get out of here. It looks like they're calling in reinforcements.”

“Well that wasn't a very fun rescue, I barely got to break anything,” Graham whined, but he paused from saying anything more after seeing the glares that both Lua and Shaft shot at him.

They had managed to rescue Lua Klein with relative ease, but there were more things in store for them that would prove to be much more difficult.


	6. Many Months Later the War Continues On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's what's what: The Gandors celebrate a small victory against their enemies. The government is becoming anxious. Time is ticking for the immortals. Against all odds, the families stand their ground against the coming forces.

Many Months Later the War Continues On

September, 1933

Luck Gandor

It had been four months since the ordeal with the police and the Runoratas had started. The attacks hadn't stopped, and if anything, they'd only gotten more vicious and more bold. For the first time since he became immortal, Luck feared for not only his safety, but his family's as well. Surprisingly, Isaac and Miria's “spy” work gave them some good information about the Runorata's plans and their involvement with the police. Armed with this new information, they were able to avoid or counter most of their attacks, but Luck was still uneasy. He continued to remember the eavesdropped phone call, and although Dallas insisted that he'd be fine on his own, Luck kept an annoyingly close watch on him.

Tonight, however, the Gandors were busy celebrating pushing the Runoratas back out into the northern border, as far away from the center of the Gandor territory as they could. It was Claire who'd decided to celebrate, and Luck didn't bother to try and stop him. It wouldn't matter anyway.

“C'mon, Lucky, just one more glass,” Claire teased as he poured himself another helping of an expensive red wine that Luck was rather fond of. The rims of his eyes were tinted red, and although Claire held his alcohol quite well, Luck had no doubt that he'd get quite drunk tonight. Luck had no plans of doing any of that, so he simply turned up his nose.

“No, I've had enough.”

“Aww, you're no fun! You know what they say, Luck, you'll never build up a tolerance for something if you never go a little overboard~”

“It's not about tolerance,” Luck muttered, looking down at his hands. Even in his immortal state, Luck's health was a thin vase, easily shattered. Too much alcohol made him sick for days, and the last thing he needed was to be sick. “I think I'd rather just turn in.” In truth, Luck was rather uncomfortable with the whole party atmosphere and, at the moment, would have much preferred to be in bed with Dallas who'd gone up an hour earlier when the whiskey ran out.

“And leave the party? Lucky,” Claire whined, tugging playfully at his brother's shirt. From where she sat beside him, Chane shot a withering glare at him.

' _You shouldn't tease him like that,_ ' she scolded. ' _Besides, he probably wants to spend time with Dallas._ '

“Alright, alright,” Claire sighed in defeat. Luck had no idea what Chane had said, but he was grateful for it. The iron vice that was Claire's grip relaxed, and Luck started to go up the stairs.

“Try not to mess the place up too much, okay?” Luck asked, and Claire laughed in reply. Knowing that the place would be ripped to shreds by morning, Luck just sighed as he trudged up the stairs and pushed open the door to his bedroom.

“What took you so long?” Dallas asked, peering at Luck from where he lied on the bed. His voice trembled a bit, a sign that he was a bit drunk, and Luck could only manage to stare at him. There he lied on the bed, wearing only his button-down undershirt that reached halfway down his thighs with the way he was resting. “I've been waitin' here for like an hour. I figured you'd be up sooner.”

Luck grinned as he slid into bed, positioning himself so that he was leaning over Dallas, both hands placed on opposite sides of his body. One hand reached down and traced the wrinkles in the fabric of Dallas's shirt, playing aimlessly with the buttons. “You didn't tell me you had anything planned.”

“Yeah, that's 'cause I didn't have anything planned until after I already got up here.”

“I think the whiskey's getting to your head,” Luck remarked, moving his hand up to run his fingers through Dallas's hair. He leaned down, pressing the tip of his nose against Dallas's, and the other man smiled back.

“Shut up,” he answered playfully, leaning up and kissing Luck roughly. A low groan came from Luck, muffled against Dallas's lips as Dallas wrapped his arms around Luck's shoulders, pulling him down so that he was closer to him. He then shifted slightly, unbuttoning the front of Luck's vest and pushing it down off his shoulders. Luck didn't try to stop him, only moved a little so that he could fling it off the side of the bed. His tie and undershirt suffered the same fate, until only his pants and Dallas's shirt kept them from being completely bare.

Luck's fingers came to Dallas's ivory buttons again, and the other moaned softly as he started to unbutton his shirt. “You don't mind, do you?” He asked, and Dallas smirked.

“No, as long as I get to do this.” Then Dallas's hands were at Luck's belt, and Luck's fingers faltered a bit. Damn him, damn him for the way he knew how to excite Luck with just his fingertips. He felt the constricting pressure of the belt loosen, and Dallas pulled it from Luck's waist, tossing it off the side of the bed. All the while, Luck continued to unbutton the shirt, only stopping to shift his hips to help Dallas pull his pants down as well.

When they were both finally rid of their clothes, Luck pushed up close against Dallas, pressing his lips close to Dallas's jawline, biting down just below his ear. It wasn't a hard bite, just enough so Dallas could feel it, could tell that Luck was doing it. Dallas groaned a bit, thrusted his hips up into Luck's, and he took that as a sign that he wanted more. Luck caught his skin in his teeth again, sucking until it tasted sharp in his mouth while his hand wandered between his legs. Luck's fingers gently traced the soft skin on Dallas's inner thighs, touching lightly in every place except where he needed it. His legs trembled with want, and Dallas wasn't one for begging, but this waiting was driving him insane and Luck knew it.

“Luck,” Dallas murmured, his body tensing and relaxing at the smallest of Luck's touches. Luck's fingers finally brushed against him, against his cock, and Dallas gasped, finding himself spreading his legs a bit.

“You need this, don't you?” Luck asked, voice low and husky. “You need this bad.”

“Yeah, I've missed you,” Dallas murmured, voice understandably strained. “I've missed this.” He gasped again as Luck's fingers curled around his cock, stroking him like that. “Goddammit...”

“It hasn't been that long,” Luck laughed, moving his hand just a bit faster. “Just a few weeks.”

“Too long,” Dallas retorted, before he grabbed the back of Luck's head and pushed it down so he could kiss him. Their lips pressed together hard, and Luck's teeth scraped Dallas's lip. Dallas wanted it like this, though, wanted it to be rough and hard, and Luck knew it. His hand moved faster, harder, rougher, and Dallas moaned and writhed and cursed against Luck until he came. Only then did he relax, falling against the pillows and looking at Luck with the eyes of a satisfied she-cat.

“Is that it?” Luck asked as he pulled his hand back, wiping the sticky mess onto the sheets.

“I dunno,” Dallas purred, and the shifty-eyed look that he gave him made heat flare up in the bottom of Luck's stomach. “Did you want to fuck?”

“I was planning to.”

“Then go ahead.” Dallas grinned up at Luck, and it took all of Luck's self-control not to fuck him right there. He managed to reach over to the bedside table and pull the bottle of lubricant from the drawer. Once he'd thoroughly coated his fingers, Luck pulled up close to Dallas again, resting his chin on Dallas's shoulder as he wrapped one arm around Luck's back.

“You ready?” Luck murmured, though he didn't know why. If Dallas didn't want him to, he would have said it, but Dallas nodded in response to Luck. With his conformation, Luck pushed one finger into him. Dallas let out another throaty moan, arching his back slightly. His body had gotten used to this, and he didn't flinch as Luck stretched him. When he pulled out, Dallas tensed with anticipation, his muscles tightening under Luck's grip. Luck shifted a bit, lining himself up, and when he pushed in it was easy, smooth, natural.

Dallas moaned, arching his back again as his toes curled. He thrust his hips up, forcing Luck in deeper with the motion. It didn't take long for their paces to match and even out, and any awkwardness or virginal hesitations had vanished. They went like that, steady and even, until Luck thrust in deep and Dallas let out a cry.

“There,” he gasped, his fingernails digging into Luck's shoulders involuntarily. “Right there, do it again.” It was more of an order than a question, but Luck was more than happy to oblige. He thrust in again, harder, rougher, and Dallas cried out again, his body tightening around Luck. It didn't take much more to push him over the edge, and he cursed as he came, the words mixing together to form unintelligible mutter. Luck didn't last much longer himself before he came as well, then pulled out and curled up beside Dallas. His fiance cuddled closer to him, wrapping his arms around Luck, all but purring in content at this point.

“Now wasn't that better than some stupid party?” Dallas grinned, and Luck pressed his forehead against Dallas's.

“Yeah,” he murmured, a smile making its way across his face as he pulled Dallas closer. He knew that the probability of he and Dallas having much more time alone like this was small.

Senator Barium

For four months now, the immortals had managed to outwit and outfight the attempts both the government and the Runoratas launched to defeat them. As the days drew by, Barium was becoming more anxious and more desperate. If there wasn't any progress soon, he knew that his allies would become discouraged. If his allies became discouraged, Barium had no doubts that things would get ugly for him very quickly.

With this in mind, he devised a plan of action. While the Russos were less restricted in terms of violence and warfare than the Gandors, they were also smaller. Barium would focus the police force on them. In the meantime, he'd use his remaining resources to focus on tearing at the Gandors. Bartolo had already managed to fight off the Runoratas, if they had to focus on two war fronts, Barium knew that it would be much harder for them to stay afloat.

Now, his new plan bubbling in his head, Barium rose from his place on the couch and left the room. He had many calls to make.

Ladd Russo

“Uh, Boss? You got someone here to see you...”

Ladd looked up from where he'd been lying on his bed, lazily studying the bumps and nicks on his favorite shotgun. Shaft stood in the doorway, worry apparent on his face. Shaft usually wore an expression of worry or unease, but this was a bit different. Sitting up, Ladd swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Who is it?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

When he came into the living room, Ladd stopped in his tracks. Standing there in the middle of the room was Luck Gandor, his golden eyes peering deeply into Ladd's. The blonde bristled visibly.

“Ah, I see. Come to attack us while we're weak, eh?” Ladd jeered, his eyes blazing with fury that remained unspoken. “Of course, that's nothin' I wouldn't expect from a Gandor fox like you.”

“And an incorrect conclusion is nothing I wouldn't expect from someone like you,” Luck retorted, and Ladd stiffened. “I came to propose an armistice.”

“An armistice?” Ladd raised one eyebrow as he mulled over Luck's words, shoving one hand into his pocket. “Why?”

“Like you don't know.” There was a long, heavy silence between them, and Luck sighed.” We don't have time to fight with each other. If we do, we won't last. We'll have to stand our ground separately.” Ladd's jaw tightened, and Luck shifted uncomfortably.

“Alright,” Ladd murmured, looking away from the Gandor. “But as soon as this is over, we go back to fightin' each other. And I'll kill you.”

“I look forward to that.”

With those words, Luck turned on his heel and left, the quiet shutting of the door announcing his leave.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Well, everyone, it looks like I'm back again, this time with a new story. If you like/liked iNSaNiTY, you're going to like Ferro Riscaldato, Heated Iron, even more. It's about to get interesting, so put on your seatbelts and get ready for the mayhem.


End file.
